Out of the Fire, into the Frying Pan: Extra scenes
by GenderbentUnicorn
Summary: A companion to Out of the Fire, Into the Frying Pan. A collection of the scenes that didn't make it into the main fanfiction, but may add to the story slightly.
1. Chapter 1: Sadiq

**A/N: So I'm writing a fanfiction called Out of the Fire, into the Frying Pan, but there are a lot of scenes that are relevant to the AU**, **but can't really fit into the fanfiction itself. So I'm collecting those scenes and posting them seperately, I'll also be posting them to my tumblr (same name as on here).**

**You don't have to read my other fic to understand what's going on, but it might help.**

Sadiq lifted his hand to knock on the front door, but then paused, feeling a nervousness that he certainly wasn't used to.

All the direct deals he had done before had been done with the same young boy, a boy who a few years ago, Sadiq simply would not have believed could have anything to do with such a business.

The woman he was meeting today was rumoured to have very close connections to Ivan Braginski himself and was known simply as 'Ms. Arlovskaya'. He had been informed by those who had met her before that she was extremely beautiful, but never to try anything with her. When he had asked why, he was simply met with fearful expressions.

_Be polite._

_Treat her like a lady._

_Do _everything _she asks._

He finally mustered up the courage to knock and nervously shuffled his feet as he waited for the door to open.

It was a whole ten minutes before Sadiq was graced with her presence, and he was pretty sure that she had done that on purpose.

The woman now at the door was indeed beautiful, with her white-blonde hair falling gracefully down her petite frame. But she held an air of pretentiousness that made her wholly unattractive, and her good looks were wasted by the sour expression she was giving him.

"You may come in," she said, talking to him like a child, or a dog, as she sashayed back into the house. He stepped into the doorway after her and removed his coat hoping it was okay for him to hang it on the large brass hooks near to the front of the house.

He walked into the old-fashioned living room, where Ms. Arlovskaya was seated and glancing bored at her perfect nails.

"Hi," he said, then immediately regretted it; was that too informal?

She glared back, confirming his suspicions, then sneered, "Take off your mask."

Sadiq felt his stomach tighten slightly; he didn't like taking his mask off one bit, he felt too open and vulnerable. He tried smiling slightly, "Actually, I, er, tend to just keep this on."

Ms. Arlovskaya stared back at him blankly, "That's nice," she said flatly as her expression sharpened. After a few seconds, she hadn't dropped her gaze and Sadiq finally gave in, reaching his hand up to pull off his mask, something he usually only did before he went to bed. As he pulled the mask away from his face, he made sure to glare at the young lady before him with his rarely seen eyes. He very much wanted to tell her to stop talking to him like that, that no one talked to him like that, especially not women. But a rather dangerous looking knife was balanced on a small, delicate plate on the little table in front of her. And he had a strong feeling that she wouldn't be afraid to use it if he put even one toe out of line.

Ms. Arlovskaya inclined her head ever so slightly towards a chair, her hair swishing around her shoulders as she did so, "Sit down," she commanded him, and refraining the urge to punch her porcelain face, Sadiq did so.

Ms. Arlovskaya glanced once again at her nails and drawled, "So, what do you want? Is there some sort of problem?"

Sadiq heard a faint noise upstairs, it sounded like a door being opened. Ms. Arlovskaya's eyes flickered upwards momentarily, and Sadiq was about to ask if there was anyone else in the house, but quickly decided against it and answered her question instead, "Yeah, there is a problem. Our last order, you only gave us half the stock."

Ms. Arloskaya gave him a very bored look before frowning and glancing at the ceiling again as there was another noise from upstairs.

Sadiq breathed deeply, trying very hard not to slap some sense into the self-absorbed bitch in front of him, before continuing, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice, "Are you gonna tell me why that is?"

Ms. Arlovskaya stood up steadily and brushed the creases out of her skirt, before walking slowly towards the window and glancing out, as if she were expecting someone. Sadiq was becoming impatient and was about to tell her that she'd better turn around when she said quietly, still not looking at him, "Well, what do you expect me to do about it?"

"Give us what we paid for; I thought that'd be obvious."

Ms. Arlovskaya sighed and turned around, her hands gracefully folded over each other in front of her, "It's not always possible to smuggle so many weapons at once, maybe you should learn not to be so greedy."

Sadiq stood up angrily, but Ms. Arlovskaya glared at him, "Sit down! I'm still talking!"

He sat back down, but gave her what he hoped was a threatening look back. She moved swiftly over to the table and picked up her knife, "Mr..."

"Annan."

"Mr. Annan, I would like to remind you that this is not your house, and you may not just do anything you want whilst you are here, nor may you tell me what to do. It is your own fault this has happened, perhaps you will learn from your mistakes."

"Ms. Arlovskaya, you're being quite unreasona-"

She stormed over and put her knife to his neck, "Shut up," she snarled, "I don't want to hear your pitiful whining."

She stayed there for a few seconds, as Sadiq felt a bead of sweat drop from his forehead, if he even moved an inch, he was pretty sure he would be skewered. After a very tense half-minute, she pulled her hand away and walked back towards the window, "You should leave," she said, her voice full of authority, "I don't want to see you again."

Sadiq scowled but stood up, "Good day, Ms. Arlovskaya," he drawled sarcastically as he stormed out the room, replacing his mask and making sure to slam the door to the room.

He walked towards the front door and heard another noise from above him, he glanced at the stairs and froze as he saw a young man staring wide-eyed back at him. In fact, he wasn't sure 'young man' was the best word to use; he looked like a boy, he couldn't have been older than eighteen. He had bright white hair, which seriously needed combing, and fearful red eyes that seemed to be pleading for help.

He looked so pitiful, leaning against the wall with his arms protectively across his chest. Sadiq glanced at his arms, which seemed to be covered in marks, especially around his wrists. The boy opened his mouth, as if he was about to say something, but then close it again as his eyes widened even further.

Sadiq heard a voice at the back of his head telling him to help the kid, but he couldn't bring himself to, he felt uncomfortable just looking at him. He turned, pulled his coat off the hook and left the house, feeling the boy's eyes still on him and it occurred to him that he had never seen anything quite so broken.


	2. Chapter 2: Ludwig

**A/N: Just a little drabble scene I wanted to write.**

**I decided not to write this in my usual style, but more blunt and straight forward, since it revolves around Ludwig, rather than Gilbert. But my sister wasn't very impressed :'D**

**Ah well, it doesn't hurt trying everything once :)**

Ludwig had a routine when he got home from school. He would always allow himself and hour before he started his homework, for free time. When he was a little younger, he would commonly spend this hour with Gilbert who, although slightly ridiculous, would never cease to entertain him.

But he had not seen Gilbert in quite a few years now, and unless he decided to spend a little time with his best friends, he liked to use his free hour to go on a run, or read a new book that he had found in the library. Today, he had already spent his lunchtime in the gym, so he decided that he may as well get on with reading the book on the Weimar Republic that his teacher had recommended.

When, like today, he read a book, he usually managed it in peace, either because his father was out, or he simply left him to it. Today, however, Ludwig couldn't help noticing that his father was loitering in the kitchen (which was always his choice of room to read in).

Eventually, after his father had uncharacteristically walked in and out of the room about five times and was about to walk out again, Ludwig sighed and put his book down, "Do you want something?" He asked, sounding rather irritated.

He almost hoped his father would say it was nothing, and leave him to read and work without constant bother. But instead, he leant slightly against the kitchen counter, looking uncomfortably at the floor.

There was a rather long, uncomfortable pause before he started speaking, "You know your mother died a long time ago."

Ludwig stared at his father incredulousy, and was sorely tempted to send a rather sarcastic 'no' back at him, but he was pretty sure that would do nought but upset him, so instead he simply said, "Um, yeah."

Not the most elegant response in the world.

"And I know I've been a bit hung up about-" his voice caught in his throat slightly, "About-".

Ludwig knew what his father was trying to say, one little word, one name, one _person_ who had managed to completely flip their lives upside down without even being there. _Gilbert._ He nodded at his dad, showing him that he knew what he meant, that he didn't need to say it.

His father cleared his throat, "Well, I've actually started seeing someone else recently," he looked slightly nervous, "It's been years since your mother died, and I know I've been upset since..." Once again, he seemed unable to say it, so he simply carried on, "I think this might be a good thing, and I-"

"Dad," Ludwig interrupted, "It's fine, I'm not going to get mad at you."

His father let out a small sigh of relief, before Ludwig continued, "What's her name?"

The change was rather alarming, where his relieved, confident father had been just a moment ago was now a stuttering, embarrassed, almost unrecognisable man, "Actually," he said, sounding rather flustered, "They're not a _her._"

Ludwig felt his eyebrows shoot up, "You're dating another _man_? I didn't realise you were gay..."

"I'm not!" His father said resolutely, "I'm not usually attracted to men, and I certainly loved your mother. It's just him, I suppose," he smiled slightly, "He's-"

"Um, okay," Ludwig interrupted again, not really wanting to here every detail of his father's love life, it was awkward enough talking to him about _anything_, let alone romance, "What's his name?" He asked simply.

"Julius. Julius Vargas."

Now it was Ludwig's turn to go rather red, "Did you say _Vargas_?" He spluttered, hoping with every fibre of his being that he had heard the name wrong.

"Yes, Vargas, I think two of his sons go to your school, do you know them?"

Ludwig nodded and felt his face flush even more, "I don't know Lovino so well, he doesn't seem to like me very much anyway. But I get on well with Feliciano..."

His father smiled, "Well that's good then, do you mind if I invite him round?"

"No, no, not at all," Ludwig said hurriedly, knowing that he sounded slightly panicked.

His father looked at him, a confused, but concerned look on his face as he walked over, "Is everything okay?" He asked, putting his hand on Ludwig's forehead to check if he had a temperature.

Ludwig shook his hand off, "Everything's fine," he said, "Just...is this a good time to mention that I'm gay?"

His father look surprised for a split second, but then raised his eyebrows in what looked like amusement, "Well I'm not exactly going to get mad at you about it, am I?" He glance at the book, "Well, I'm sorry for distracting you, you can get back to reading I suppose," he started towards the door, but turned around before he had left the room, "I'll invite Julius round later this week then, and you can talk to me if you need to, okay?"

Ludwig nodded as his father disappeared, but he didn't really mean it. He never found talking to him all that useful, he had liked talking to Gilbert about his problems, but since he had been gone, he had learnt to simply shut them inside himself.

Besides, if he got talking to his father, he weas pretty sure he would let slip his relationship with Feliciano. With his father dating Feliciano's father at the moment, he figured that conversation could wait for another time; a time far, far into the future.


End file.
